Träume, Lust, und Angst
by PrussianLove
Summary: Prussia has been tricked into living at Russia's house, and he's not enjoying it. All he wants to do is get back to his brother. But when he finally does, things have changed so much, and Prussia's afraid they'll never go back.
1. Welcome To Russia

HOLY SHITE THAT IS A LONG ASS CHAPTER. DAMNNNN….Enjoy~ I finally have the story down right, and I hope it makes some sense.

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Prussia scanned the contract over, smiling. He had gotten what he wanted, someone to do his boring work and more land, which of course meant more power. He was going to be the biggest and most awesome country in the whole world, and no one would be able to stop it from happening.

He put the paper down and signed it, handing it back to the silver-blonde haired man across the table. The man smiled as well, a dangerous glint that matched Prussia's own in his eyes. The man looked over it, purple orbs searching for any mistakes.

Since there were none, he simply got up and left the room, closing his study door behind him. Gilbert made a "Pfchhh" sound, glaring at the door.

"RUDE!" he yelled childishly, getting up and looking around. When he found the front door, he walked out it, earning a gust of bitterly cold air. He glared at the white landscape like it was its entire fault the man was rude and that the Prussian was pissy. He had always hated snow. A below zero wind hit his face, biting into his pale cheeks, making them bright red. Climbing into his car, he blasted the heat, breathing a sigh of relief.

( )( )( )( )

He woke up, hands flying up to clutch his head in his hands. It felt like it was going to split in half. Grinding his teeth to keep from screaming, he got up, going to the bathroom, looking desperately for some kind of pain killer.

Of course there wasn't any, because Germany found it wasn't safe to keep medicine in the same house as Prussia. So, instead, he went into his office, pulling out a green binded book.

Opening it up, he smiled, pulling out the bag of white powder from the square hole in the middle. He ripped a page out of the part of the book that wasn't cut, rolling it into a tube. He sprinkled some in the paper, then quickly snorted it, making his nose burn.

Suddenly, though, he was filled with euphoria, as if he was floating on air. He closed his eyes, falling into his desk chair. He let his head roll back, mouth hung open in a silent moan. He felt the drug coursing through his system, felt it take claim on his brain, making the excruciating pain in his head disappear, as if it was a fly he could just bat away. He felt the layers of pain and stress melt away like butter, a relaxed and tranquil sensation filling him.

He heard a knock on the door, sounding like it was underwater. His brain put a kaleidoscope-like lens over everything, and he saw his brother come in the room through a million colors.

"Gilbert? Are you okay?" The man asked, also sounding like he was underwater. Prussia giggled, his crimson eyes half-lidded with a drug-induced haze.

"I'm high as a kite, Lud…as a kiteeee~" He said, waving towards the sky (it was really more towards the bookshelves, but it was close.)

"DAMMIT GIL! Why do you do this?" Germany growled, his face turning a shade of red. Gilbert raised a white eyebrow.

"Maybe cause I have no respect for myself or anyone around me? Cause I have a problem with authority?" He smirked, once again falling into a daze. He heard Germany groan and walk out of the room, probably to go hit his head against a wall.

( )( )( )( )

When his high was over and he had crashed, Prussia walked red nosed and bleary eyed towards the kitchen, where he thought he smelled breakfast being cooked. Sure enough, Germany was standing there, cooking eggs over the stove. Germany turned around when the albino yawned; looking at him up and down, probably making sure he wasn't still high.

"Now Luddy, it's not nice to stare~" He sang, laughing. Germany frowned disapprovingly at him.

"Then why are you staring at _me?_"

"Well, mein bruder, I'm imagining you cooking breakfast for me in an apron ONLY" He smirked , everything about his eyes and face predatory, like he wanted to pounce on the German right then. Ludwig sighed and turned back around, hiding from Prussia the blush that had spread across his face.

Prussia stared longingly at Germany's back, eyes scanning over his broad shoulders, over his arms, long and muscled. Gilbert thought back to when the blond was a child, how he never missed a day of army training, even though Prussia always told him he should go home.

He thought of how smooth and beautiful the German's back and chest were, how it felt to run his hands over them. He remembered every single scar that marked Ludwig's body, and he knew where each one came from.

He especially remembered the one across the German's chest, stretching from his right shoulder down to the start of his ribs. Prussia thought of how it was to run his thin, scarred fingers over this one, how instead of a raised one like the rest it was like an indention in his skin, how it was the about the same color as Prussia's skin.

He thought of German's face, and immediately his mind went to those eyes. The eyes that struck Prussia from the first time he saw the child, -sitting in the middle of his army, all dead- to now. They were like chips of unforgiving ice, never to crack or melt. They seemed like they looked into his very soul, yet he could stare into them all day, if Ludwig would let him.

He thought of the defined features on Germany's tanned face, of his angular yet beautiful nose. And his lips, permanently curved down in a disapproving frown. Every time Gilbert looked at them he wanted to kiss them and never stop.

And finally the German's hair. Hair that was soft to the touch, fine and silky when let down. And lord did it look sexy when he let it down. Prussia had always liked Ludwig's hair down, his fringe almost touching his eyebrows.

He knew how it was to wrap his hands in that hair, to feel it in between his fingers. He knew what it was like to kiss those lips, to wrap his own slender arms around Germany's neck. To take the German one time after another, to make the man scream out his brother's name. He knew what it was like to feel the German arch under him, to see his hair plastered to his forehead, his face flushed bright red, eyes squeezed shut, head thrown back as he screamed.

But Gilbert's favorite part was to wake up with Germany at his side, to be able to wrap his arms around his brother without feeling bad. He liked how it felt to curl into the German's chest, to feel the blonde's breath on his neck. He liked how it felt to be able to kiss the man with no regrets, to be able to let his unnatural feeling take complete control of him, and not get rejected. He liked seeing the true Germany, not to see the hard faced façade he usually portrayed.

He remembered what it was like when Germany was a small kid, how adorable he was. How every time Prussia went off to battle, the child would cry and hold onto his legs, screaming at him not to go. When he got home, the child would throw himself into Gilbert's arms.

Then he started to understand why Prussia had to leave. He began to realize the world was a bad place, and that war was how it was dealt with. So, the blond sat up all night, waiting for Prussia to get home, and when the albino did get home, he would grab the bandages and patch the Prussian back up, piece by piece, then go to bed.

But Germany grew up and everything changed. He got old, and his childish soft eyes got hard. And Prussia knew it was his fault. He had changed his brother into a cold, battle ready machine. But sometimes he saw a flash of what Germany used to be, a loving child, just wanting his brother to cling to.

It was around then that Prussia realized his feelings were more than familial feelings, that they were unnatural and wrong. But he didn't care. He started to notice the littlest things about his brother, the things that made the German who he was. Prussia started to notice how hot his brother had really become, what made him look more like a man than a kid. It wasn't just lust that drove said feelings though. It was something more. Something that made his lungs constrict and his heart swell. It was a feeling of serious, unbridled love. He couldn't help but dream of Germany every night, to wake up wishing he was right there with him. He remembered the night Germany confessed his feelings vividly. The night he found all of his dreams come true.

_He was shaken awake in his sleep, a yawn passing his lips. His crimson eyes fluttered open, bleary from sleeplessness. He had bad dreams all night. When his vision cleared, his eyes settled on his brothers face. The man had an embarrassed blush on his face, his bashful look making Prussia want to squee._

"_Bruder?" He asked, keeping the excitement out of his voice._

"_Ahm…I just...i wanted to tell you that…well…" The man suddenly kissed him, lips locking into Prussia's perfectly. He opened his mouth, parted in a silent plea for more. And he got it, a deepened kiss. When they pulled away, he felt Germany's breath on his face, the sweet smell of something he didn't know filling his senses. He felt his predatory instincts take over, crawling on top of Germany with a satisfied look on his face. Both had a deep blush covering their cheeks, breath coming out in short hot puffs. The lust turned Prussia's eyes a darker red than ever, while Germany looked younger, scared of what would happen._

"_Prussia?"_

"_Ja?"_

"_I…I love you" He sighed, turning his head the other way. "Just…go easy?" Prussia smirked, sharp incisors showing beneath lips pale from kissing. Slipping his shirt off, he felt a euphoria-induced fog cover his mind._

_When they had woken up, Germany got up, wincing. Prussia smirked happily, stretching. He noticed the bruises surrounding Germany's wrists, the ones that ran down his chest and neck. He looked down, seeing that he, too, had such bruises._

"_I thought I said easy!" The German growled, rubbing his back._

"_That WAS easy, West." A 'kesesese' rang through the room. Ludwig sat back down, wrapping his arms around his brother._

"_Gil, I love you. I love you so much." He said, his face turning red._

"_West….I…I love you too." He replied, feeling his heart swell in his chest. He felt like he couldn't breathe. His brother had confessed to him. Feelings he had held back for years were finally put out on the table, and it was wonderful._

Germany was the only one Prussia had ever felt that way about, the only one he really wanted to hold. And he would be happy, just being able to hold the German in his arms forever. He felt his heart wrench every time he got pushed away, mostly because he knew that Ludwig would let him do it if he were alone. This was because the blond was scared and disgusted by his own emotions, and Prussia knew it. Yet he didn't care. He couldn't help himself, or stop himself. He sat back in his chair, eyes closed, feeling the regret echo on his features.

"Gilbo? Are you okay?" Germany's voice popped into his memories, bringing him back out from his dream world.

"I'm fine, Lud. I was just daydreaming." He said, sitting up straight in his chair.

"Good. Want some eggs?" Ludwig asked, yawning. Prussia felt a pink tinge set to his face as he nodded. He shouldn't have been thinking those things, he told himself. Germany raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. Suddenly Prussia jumped up, grabbing his brother's uniform collar and pushing him against the wall.

"P-Prussia? What're you doing?" The blond asked, eyes wide and innocent.

"Well, mein bruder, I've been thinking a lot, and frankly, I want you." He said, kissing Ludwig's neck. The German gasped, his head rolling back. He was surprised, yes, but it wasn't like he didn't like it. Gilbert trailed down Germany's neck, unbuttoning his uniform's top. His brother's hands wrapped around his arms, tightening with each hickey left. He let out a guttural moan, pushing Prussia away.

"Gil. No. Please, no." He pushed past the Prussian, glowering at the ground. Prussia looked flabbergasted after him. Silently he walked to his room, throwing himself down on his bed. He couldn't believe it. He had gotten rejected, in his own home. He took a shaky breath, feeling his lungs expand and contract. Slowly he got back up, feeling the need to get some air.

( )( )( )( )

He walked through the city of Königsberg, looking around at the building, the people, the town. He loved this town. It was his favorite one. Usually people would smile and wave at you, telling you to have a good day and enjoy the rest of it. Yet he saw no one doing so…

Then he noticed something. There was something…off. He heard it suddenly. The people…they were all speaking Russian. Russian? He looked around again, really looking. This time he saw it. He saw the change. Everything around him was different in small ways. It seemed so hostile, he realized. Everyone seemed so reserved.

Then he saw him. The man he made the deal with. He was laughing, a person, beaten to a bloody lump, resting under his black boot, pleading desperately in his native language. Prussia rushed over to the man, tackling him, his complex for looking out for his own taking over. He growled and rolled around till the man was on the ground, Prussia sitting on top of his chest. It seemed like slow motion as he brought his fists down on the man's face repeatedly, hearing the satisfying crack of some bone. He felt the skin of a cheek bruise and break under his fists, turning his knuckles crimson as his eyes. He got up, bringing his own booted foot down into the man's ribs, kicking as hard as he could.

He stopped as someone pulled him off, yelling harshly in his ear. He growled at the man, lunging once again but feeling a pair of hands pulling him back. He saw the man get up, wiping blood from his mouth, smirking at Gilbert, pissing the albino off more.

"Well, precious, looks like I will have to break you." He said simply, getting up, grabbing Prussia by his wrists and knocking him down in the snow, face down. He felt his face get cold and numb, felt the cold bite into the skin and turn it a blistering red. He screamed, not that it helped, because it was muffled by the snow as well. He felt the nerves in his face slowly dying, taking all feeling with them. And then all to suddenly he was pulled up from the snow, given a fresh breath of air. He heard a low, delighted chuckle in his ear, and he growled, his lip curling up.

He wretched his hand away, running in the opposite direction. Before he knew it he was in Berlin, cold buildings rising above his head like omniscient tomb stones. He looked around, breathing the not-so-fresh city air. His breath came out in aggravated puffs. He started to realize that maybe he had made a mistake.

He felt a shiver rack his body, a curious thing, since he never shivered. Then suddenly they turned into tremors, causing him to fall to his knees. He felt his muscles in his body tighten, like taught cords. His headache flared up again, worse than before.. His shut eyes shut tighter, and the tremors got worse, making him shake visibly.

A scream ripped through his lips, though it didn't sound like he did it. It sounded far away, like he was floating above the noise. His muscles and bones contracted involuntarily, and he felt himself curl into a ball, his face against the pavement of the street.

Suddenly someone was holding him, carrying him from the street. He couldn't see anything, the agony making his vision blurred and white. All he could do was feel something soft, probably the seat of a car, under his cheek, and feel the pain rattling through his body.

He coughed violently, red liquid splattering all over everything. He felt wetness on his own face, probably a mixture of blood, sweat, and tears.

The metallic taste of the crimson liquid burned in his mouth, and he could feel it running from his nose across him slips. He coughed again, even though his body protested. His head was pounding, and it felt like it wasn't big enough to hold his brain, like it did when he was hung over. Another scream ripped through his already raw throat, and white hot pain exploded behind his irises.

He called out a single word before he passed out, the one person who he wanted, no, needed to see before he died. "West…"

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His eyes opened slowly, feeling like they were glued shut. He desperately tried to push himself up, but his arms wobbled out from under him, and he fell back into the bed. His head was still pounding, and it felt like it was full of…something. His body felt weak, useless and painful. He could smell and taste the blood on himself, in his mouth. He was still blinded, to his dismay. He felt naked and vulnerable when all his senses were weak.

A sound entered his thoughts, distant but loud.

"Mr. Prussia? Are you awake?" A shaky but motherly voice asked, making him almost feel warm and fuzzy; but only Germany could do that.

"Ngggh!" He tried to say something, but even the sound was hard to make, feeling gravely in his throat.

"I guess that's a yes? Here, drink this." The person said, pushing a cup with a sweet smelling liquid in his hands. He took a sniff of it, and was remended of when he got home from a battle, Germany used to make him tea with honey. He gave in and drank the tea, feeling the honey instantly go to work on his throat, the tea soothing his nerves.

Expirementally, he made a sound, trying to get him mouth to work.

"Hnnnn...Where?" he said, and suddenly his throat hurt again. The someone put a hand on his shoulder, which he shook away.

"Don't try to talk, okay?" The same person said, and he felt them wash his face in warm water.

"I know it's gonna hurt, but bear with me, okay? He beat you up pretty bad…looks like your bleeding under your shirt, I'm going to have to take it off, okay?" he felt his shirt being removed from him, the cold air of the room prickling his skin. He sighed as he felt hands on his chest.

He ground his teeth as the person poked and prodded his ribs, at all his injuries. Slowly they pressed on his ribs, trying to find the broken ones. When he found them, he gasped, wincing.

"Sorry!" The person said, pulling their hands away. They wrapped bandages across his shoulder and around his chest, whispering something in a different language. He felt a soft pat on his shoulder, then they left.

Later he was woken up by the sound of people arguing. His eyes opened, and he was bet by a flood of color. The first one he saw was purple. Purple eyes stared down at him, and he screamed. The eyes brightened happily.

"You are awake, pet?" The person said bouncily. Gilbert felt his lip curl, making his face hurt, since said lip was busted. He saw a brown haired man lean over him, checking his bandages.

"Mr. Prussia, are you alright?"

"I can see…" he breathed, his voice sounding sandy in his raw throat. The man smiled, nodding.

"That's good! You're still pretty bad, but you'll get better." Prussia nodded, his bones feeling stiff.

"Where a-"

"Enough with the questions." The purpled-eyed man growled, glaring at the brown-haired man. He suddenly remembered his brother, shooting out of the bed, despite his injuries.

"West?" he called, hoping his brother would call back. The purple-eyed man held him down, and it seemed like there was static in between their skin. He flinched away, glaring back at the man.

"Mr. Russia? He's bleeding!" The brown-haired man said, pushing past the purple-eyed man, Russia, and grabbed a roll of bandages. Prussia looked own to see that blood was soaking the gauze wrapped around his body. The man re-wrapped his bandages, making them tighter than before.

"Who are you?" Prussia asked lamely, eyebrows knitted from the pain.

"I'm Lithuania. You can call me Toris." He said, then left, leaving only Russia in the room with him. Gilbert glared at the man, feeling sour venom rise in his throat, ready to make his threats more spiteful than normal. But all he could get out was a single question.

"Where's West?" The Russian man laughed, a dark, evil sound not usually associated with the word.

"Your brother does not know where you are, Prussia. You should count your blessings, because you will need them here." And with that he left as well, leaving Prussia alone in the room.

( )( )( )( )

Gilbert got a few more hours of sleep before waking up, still groggy. When he finally zoned in, he felt a sudden sickness, and he pulled himself out of bed, getting himself to the bathroom, spilling his guts into the toilet bowl. He got up, his legs wobbly, and placed his hands on the sink, looking into the mirror.

Staring back was an unusually pale man, even for an albino, with whitish hair and crimson eyes. He had sweat running down his face; whether from sickness or dreams he didn't know. His lip was busted, as well as having a black eye, and gashes on his cheek and eyebrow. He washed his face quickly, and then walked straight into Toris. The man jumped, but sighed, relieved, when he saw it was Prussia.

"I see you're feeling a bit better?" he asked good naturedly, smiling. Prussia nodded weakly.

"Erm, Toris? Where am I?" He asked, looking straight at the man.

"I knew you would ask. You're in the country of Russia, and I don't think Mr. Russia will let you leave." He sighed, and left, but not without leaving Prussia a bowl of reddish soup, which Prussia gulped down eagerly. Then he slipped out of the room, looking down the hall. He walked until he found an office, which he entered silently.

He looked around, and saw that there were books on every wall, except for one. On that wall there was a desk with a tall backed chair, and close to it there was a table with a chess board built into it, complete with crystal chess pieces. He noticed that there was a phone on the desk, and instantly his hand moved towards it, ready to type in the number.

He did such, hearing it ring three times before it was answered.

"Hallo?"

"West! Thank god, West."

"Prussia? Are you okay? Where are you?"

"I'm in-" His answer was cut off by the ugly dial tone, startling him into dropping the phone.

"What are you doing?" He heard an accented voice behind him ask. He turned around, seeing that Russia had un-plugged the phone from the wall.

"I wasn't doing anything." He said, pushing past the taller man. The Russian grabbed his wrist, pulling him back around. He gasped, feeling pain shoot up his arm.

"Why're you doing this to me?" He screamed, yanking his arm away. He walked away pointedly, glaring at the ground. He heard an exasperated sigh behind him, like he was a dog who couldn't quite learn how to sit. He continued to walk through the house, until he came to a large living room. He went straight for the window, looking out. Everything was white. The road, the ground, the one tree in the yard, everything. He felt a shiver roll down his spine.

Silently he walked back to the room he was residing in, searching his coat for anything he could use. Everything was missing, including his cigarettes. He cursed angrily, knowing that he would be jumpy within a day or so. He sat down shakily, taking it all in. Two words came to mind. _I'm screwed._

( )( )( )( )

-Two years after Gilbert was brought to Russia-

He glared at the chess board. He couldn't believe he had agreed to play. He hated chess. _Hated _it. Russia made his next move, capturing the Prussian's king.

"Checkmate~" He said cheerily, smiling. Prussia shrugged, frowning.

"Why do you make me play when you ALWAYS when?" He asked, getting up.

"Because I like playing with you~" The man replied, smiling. Prussia couldn't help but giggle, since he was the immature person he was. It made it even funnier, since Russia didn't get how his words had a more perverse meaning.

"I'm gonna go make some tea." He said, turning swiftly and walking into the kitchen. He'd acquired the taste for the drink, since it soothed him, reminding him of the outside world, the promise that one day he would get out of the house. He looked longingly out the window above the sink in the kitchen, almost being able to see his brother walking down the long path that lead to the front of the house, eyes hard ice blue, his fine blonde hair slicked back like he always wore it. Even after this long, he still hoped his brother would come to get him, to break him out. A sigh rolled past his lips, and he heard the tea whistle, signaling it was done. He grabbed the honey out of the fridge, adding it to his cup only, and walked back into the office, sitting on the floor by Russia's desk.

The man absentmindedly glanced down at Prussia, a smile that would almost be considered warm on his face.

"How are you, pet? I know you must miss your brother." He said, even though he knew well enough it was a touchy subject for Prussia.

"Damn right I miss him. More than anything." Prussia said, taking an angry sip of tea. Russia sighed, then grabbed his phone, dialing a number.

"Germany? I need to have a meeting with you today. No, I am not staying long. Okay. I will see you later. Bye." Prussia felt himself gasp, looking up at Russia. The Russian looked evenly back at him, lips pursed. He grabbed Prussia's arm, pulling the man up, and lead him to his room, sitting him down on the bed.

"Rules: One, you will sit still in the place I put you. Two, do not interrupt our conversation. Three, do not come in the room we are conversing in, we have things to talk about. Got it?" The man said, looking at Prussia passively.

"Ja!" Prussia nodded enthusiastically. Silently Russia got up, pointing towards Gilbert's closet.

"Change and meet me outside." With that he left, and Prussia felt himself shake with excitement, rifling through his closet for his old uniform. He put it on, feeling memories flood back to him, and ran outside.

( )( )( )( )

Sitting silently in Germany's house was like torture. All he wanted to do was run in the office and tackle his brother, to cover the man with kisses. Then there was the whole thing were Prussia wanted to take the man right there on his desk. Biting his lip, he tried to listen to their conversation, but he couldn't hear anything. He was stuck in the hall, just outside the office. If Germany had turned a fraction of an inch when he welcomed Russia into the office he would have seen Gilbert.

He hit his head against the wall, a beat expression on his face. He wished they would hurry up and get done already. This wasn't the awesome trip he thought it was going to be. It was like going on a field trip, only to learn that you were going to a museum and you would have to write an essay on what you saw.

He noticed something suddenly, and felt a pang in his chest. He was sitting across from Germany's bedroom, and for the first time he really looked in it. He saw that all pictures of his brother and him were gone, taking out of the room, replaced by pictures of the German and…Italy. He also noticed the Italian's uniform strung across the bed post, like a silent stab to the heart, mocking him.

He was thoroughly surprised is brother would have given up on him, though. It had only been two years! Prussia felt guilt, considering he would do the same thing, but still. Ludwig was nothing like him. Feeling a silent sob come from his throat, he leaned back against the wall, sliding back down to the floor, curling into a ball. His breath came out in shudders, his whole body shaking. All he wanted to do now was go back to Russia and sleep in his bed and never get up.

He heard the office door opening, and Germany asking something disbelievingly. Then heavy boot thuds echoed through the hall as the German ran around the corner, seeing his brother curled in a ball there, tears running down his red cheeks. His eyes widened, and his mouth hung open in a surprised O.

Ludwig pulled his brother into his arms, whispering words in German so quite that not even Prussia could hear them. Prussia wrapped his arms around Germany as well, his silent sobs turned to wails. Germany rocked him back and forth, still speaking in German, telling him that it was going to be okay, that everything would be alright.

Prussia lifted his head, looking deep into his brothers blue eyes. Instead of the hard eyes he remembered from the last time he saw him, he saw eyes hurt, hollow, searching for something. The eyes of the small kid he found, covered in blood, that Francis had told him he had seen. He felt like he could see the universe in those eyes, no matter how hollow they were, and he felt everything disappear around him but his brother.

Then they were kissing and nothing mattered except the warm feel of Germany's lips on his own. Everywhere their skin touched there seemed to be extra nerves, helping him feel Ludwig's warm, smooth skin. He ran his fingers through Germany's blonde hair, pulling strands out, tickling his forehead.

The passion and hunger that he felt surprised himself and Germany, but he didn't stop, pushing the German down, only stopping for a single breath of air. Germany wrapped his strong arms around his brother's neck, pulling him closer, hands intertwined in white hair.

Suddenly Prussia was pulled away, his uniform's collar constricting his air. Germany blinked, startled, and blushed, straightening his hair and uniform. Prussia looked up, to see Russia looking down at him, stone-faced.

"We will be leaving now. Good bye, Germany. I would say I hoped to see you again, but I would be lying." With that he left, dragging Prussia by his the collar. Prussia coughed as he was thrown in the back of the car, reaching for his almost indefinitely bruised neck. Russia got into the front of the car, starting it up. Prussia saw a muscle pulse in his neck. He knew that it meant…annoyance? But why would Russia be annoyed?

"Erm…Sorry about that…I…I guess you know the family secret now, huh?" He said, laughing awkwardly. Russia waved his hand, telling Prussia to be quite, and stared back at him.

"I see why you missed him so much. Tell me, Gilbo", Prussia flinched at the name, "why…why don't you…" Russia shook his head, obviously upset, and turned around, leaving Germany's house a speck in the distance.

( )( )( )( )

-Four years after Gilbert was brought to Russia-

He felt hot breath on his neck, and he shivered, feeling his lip quiver. His arms shook uncontrollably, probably from guilt and fear rather than cold. He didn't know how he felt about what he just did. Yeah, it was freaking wonderful, but what about his brother? Russia's arm around his waist was a reminder of how Germany used to hold him when they slept together, how the blond would bury his face in Prussia's hair, and Prussia would tuck his head underneath his brother's chin.

He and Russia were in the same position, having done the same act, but it wasn't the _same. _When he was with Germany, it felt warm and cuddly, and he didn't want to be anywhere else in the world and he felt and he felt awesome afterwards, an overwhelming love for his brother filling his heart.

Now he felt warm, yes, but he also felt cold. He would probably like to be anywhere else in the world. He felt guilty, and dirty, knowing he was probably being used.

It all started around a month ago, while Prussia was awesomely cleaning the windows (which he was forced to do). Russia had come up behind him, wrapping his arms around the Prussian. Of course, Prussia had jerked away, throwing a backward glare at Ivan. But Russia had grabbed his wrist, turning him around, pinning him against the wall.

"I have been waiting a long time to do this." He said, his forehead touching Prussia's. He pressed his lips against Prussia's experimentally, pulling away to look at Gilbert's face. Surprising himself, Prussia leaned back up to kiss him again, feeling a flood of emotions fill him. The good thing: he was enjoying every minute of it. The bad thing: all of the feelings were directed towards his brother.

This, of course, didn't stop him. He even let Russia be dominant, like Germany had been, every once in a while. While the whole thing took place, his heart was screaming out for him to stop, but his brain (and his five meters) told him to go on, to finish the whole thing. During the act, it was all he could do from calling out his brother's name. But he did let a "bruderlein" slip every once-in-a-while; thanking god Russia didn't speak his language.

He heard Russia whisper his name in his ear, and the larger man shifted in his sleep, flipping all the way around. Prussia took the chance to slip out of the bed, walking into the kitchen. He saw that Toris was already in there, and the man jumped when he saw Prussia come in. Prussia realized then that he only had his boxers on, but he shrugged. He didn't really care. He clawed through the fridge till he found milk, pouring himself a bowl of cereal.

His back and legs hurt as he sat down, feeling sore, and he felt his face reflect it. The Prussia he knew wouldn't have let himself become someone's pet, their toy, their puppet, wouldn't let emotions cross his face, because he wouldn't have had a reason to need them. But he was no longer the Prussia he knew. He felt like a knock-off of the original him. He scooped the cereal in his mouth, letting it wash away the sour taste that was already in it. He shivered. He would never ever do that again. Ever.

"Mr. Prussia?" Toris said, trying to get Prussia's attention.

"Call me Gil, please." Prussia replied, rolling his eyes. He felt old when the brunette called him ' Mr. Prussia'.

"Oh, um, well, Why are you eating cereal at one o' clock in the morning?"

"Why are you in the kitchen at one o'clock at the morning?"

"Oh…I don't know..."

"Exactly. Want some?" He asked, pushing the bowl towards the man. He grabbed it right before it fell off the table, looking surprised. Then he took a bite, pushing it back at the Prussian.

"Why do you even like that cereal? It's so…plain…" Lithuania asked, eyebrows coming together over his eyes.

"It reminds me of my brother. Plain and boring." Prussia said, laughing, a smirk covering his face, feeling right there. He hadn't laughed in a while, and it made him laugh again that he had laughed over something so small. Toris laughed as well, a smile reaching his lips.

"Now, tell me Toris. How did you wind up here?" Prussia asked, tilting his head. Toris looked startled at the question, then thought for a long moment. Finally, he answered, voice shaky.

"Well, when Poland and I were allied, we were in a war with Mr. Russia. Well, we lost. So as we lie there, in the snow, ready to die, Mr. Russia grabbed me and told me I was going to work for him, instead of dying. So I guess I'm kinda prisoner here, but it's almost like he saved me. I mean, he could have just let me die in the snow, right?" He said, biting his lip, seeming like he was trying to convince himself more than Prussia.

"I see…but…why am I here? I wasn't in a war with him! I don't owe him anything!" Prussia exclaimed, feeling the familiar feeling of injustice filling his chest. It wasn't as fun when it was directed towards him.

"No, you weren't. But your brother was. Still is. You just happen to be in the middle, and you are in a…relationship with your brother, aren't you? It gives Mr. Russia the emotional advantage" Lithuania said, his cheeks gaining a pink tinge. Prussia nodded numbly, feeling words swirl in his head.

"Don't tell him I told you…but it was also because Mr. Russia has an odd fascination with you. He likes the way you hold your head high, how independent you are, how smart and calculating you are. How you don't trust anyone, except your brother. How if you love someone, you'll go the ends of the earth to make sure their safe, but if you don't you'll screw them over threefold." He said, the words coming out of his mouth like he read them out of a book. "I've never seen him have such a…is it…a crush? He gets so frustrated when you stay away from him, how you refuse to just give yourself to him wholly, how no matter what, you stay attached to your brother. He wants more than anything for you to feel about him in the same way you feel about Germany …" He finished, his voice trailing off.

( )( )( )( )

-Twelve years after Gilbert was brought to Russia-

He snuck out of the bedroom, turning both ways, straining his ears for sounds of people awake. Everyone was asleep. He crept down the hall and stairs, checking the door. It was unlocked. He ran out into the snow, feeling it soak his pant legs.

Earlier in the day he had heard Russia talking about how people were tunneling under the wall, getting to the other side. So a plan had formed in his head, and it happened to take place that night. He had already mapped out the location of the whole that was already dug, thanking god it was close to him.

After at least an hour of running, his sides hurting like hell, he got to the wall. He saw the guards everywhere, the lights shining momentarily on every part of the wall. He silently slid to the ground, feeling around for the hole.

Sure enough, it was there, the snow caving when his hand pushed on it. He slid through the cold, used hole. He crawled for a little while, and then his head popped out on the other side. An overwhelming feeling of relief flooded him, and he finished crawling out, knowing there were no guards on the west side. He continued to run, towards Germany's house. When he got there, though, he was met by Russia, a triumphant smirk covering his face.

"Hello, pet. I see you took a trip tonight? Time to go home, da?" He said, grabbing Prussia's wrist and pulling him into the car.

Later that night, when they got home, Russia drug him to the silent room, adding to the lashes already covering his back, adding to the scars, adding to the pain and humiliation. He then brought the albino to the bathroom, cleaning the blood off of him, making Prussia take a shower with him, practically, no, absolutely molesting him in the process. The whole time the Prussian kept his eyes closed, praying for it to be over quick, begging to god to make it all end, a single tear rolling down his pale cheek. His abused lips formed one word, one desperate plea for salvation and safety. "West…."


	2. Don't You Love Me, Bruder?

This is around 40 years in the future, when the Berlin Wall was taken down—just to specify~

( )( )( )( )

Ludwig tore at the wall with his hammer, making his fingers into claws. Citizens of West Berlin helped him, pieces of concrete falling around them. He felt the sun beat down on him as he worked, but he didn't stop. He finally created a hole large enough for himself to step through, letting the people on the other side flee the Communist rule. He sat down and wiped his head with his shirt, the heat finally getting to him. When he looked up, he saw a familiar figure step through the dust -which was induced by the falling bricks- his red eyes searching franticly for his brother. When they locked eyes, Germany got up, smiling as Prussia hurdled towards him. The man practically tackled him, if the blonde wasn't a sturdy on his feet, he would have gone down.

"WEST!" Prussia screamed, burying his face into his brother's neck. "West, West, West." He said, letting the tears flow freely from his scarlet eyes. Germany could feel the hot, salty tears that leaked from his own eyes as he embraced his big brother. He noticed how the Prussian felt thinner, frailer, in his own muscular arms. Prussia finally stopped crying, wiping his eyes with his sleeves.

"Ready to go home?" Germany asked him, smiling for once. Prussia nodded and grabbed his brother's hand, smiling back at him. They walked home, considering there wasn't enough gas to drive, and Germany's house wasn't that far from there. Once there, Prussia plopped down on the couch, sighing happily and going to sleep. Germany sat down beside him, working on paperwork, glancing at Prussia every once in a while, to make sure he was still there. It seemed like he would disappear any time. He had forty years ago, when Russia had stolen him away. He glanced over again, to see Prussia's eyebrow's knitting together, clawing at the beige couch. He finally woke up, gasping loudly. He looked around fastly, noticed Germany, and sat up.

"Where am I?" He asked, tilting his head.

"Your home, Prussia. Don't you remember?"

"…you promise?" He asked, his expression going soft. Germany nodded and pulled the Prussian close, letting the older man cuddle in his chest.

"I'm glad to be back. I don't EVER want to go back to Russia."

"You won't ever go back."

"Cause West will protect me?"

"Yeah." He said, nodding. He was slightly surprised at how innocent his older brother was acting. How could he be so cute? Germany quickly shook that thought out of his head. How could he think his brother was cute? Prussia tugged at his shirt, causing Germany to look down, and their lips to meet. Prussia smirked as he did this, turning slightly, so he was straddling his brother. Germany's eyes widened, and he pushed Prussia away from him, holding the albino's shoulders.

"Whawtttttt?"

"Prussia! What, are you doing?"

"…giving you a kiss!"

"That's not how brothers kiss each other."

"Not MOST brothers…but we're too awesome to care!"

"No, your, to awesome to care."

"But Westttt~ I just want you to kiss me!"

"I'll kiss you, but not in that sense, bruder."

"B-but why? We used to do it all the time!"

"It's different now. I've changed, you've changed, I have other people in my life. I was young then, Prussia. I didn't understand that it was wrong. Hell, I would have done it with anyone."

"So, your saying that what we did meant nothing at all to you?

"Nein, I don't mean that at-"

"….whatever." Prussia said, getting up and walking out of the room, obviously feeling sorry for himself. Germany sighed and followed him, finding the Prussian digging through the fridge.

"I haven't eaten any real food in forever!" He said, pulling out a container. He opened it, to find leftover pasta.

"Italia-chan was here?" He asked, laughing and sticking the food in the microwave. Germany raised an eyebrow. He was surprised at how fast Prussia had recovered. The albino usually pouted for days. Well, he used to, at least. Germany realized that the Prussian must have changed, after all that had happened to him. Germany didn't know the details, but he knew the basics. Prussia had been underfed, that was for sure, but also over-worked, abused, and of course, had close encounters with something like rape. That was what Prussia had said, at least. Russia had let the Prussian come and visit him, once or twice, and Prussia fearlessly told his brother everything, right in front of Russia, who denied nothing. That pissed the German off even more, the way that Russian bastard had a complete disregard for other people's feelings.

He was snapped out of his thoughts when he heard a familiar "Veh" down the hall, meaning Italy had got there. He stuck his head in the hallway, looking out. Italy was bouncing down the hall, dragging Japan with him. Germany motioned for the Italian to be quiet and follow, which he did. Italy walked quietly into the kitchen, then squealed happily and tackle-hugged Gilbert. The Prussian cried out, then turned around and laughed, patting the bubbly Italian happily.

"GIL! You're back! When did you get back? Is that pasta? Are you eating pasta Gil? How are you? Are you okay? I missed you so much!" Italy said, happy tears forming in his eyes. Prussia wiped these away and hugged the boy closer.

"Uh, today, yes, of course, awesome, as always, I'm fine, and I missed you too, Italia-chan " He said, trying his best to answer all of Italy's questions. He looked up as Japan walked in the room, smiling himself.

"Gilbert-san, you've come home." He said, nodding. Prussia smiled and hugged the Jap as well, not caring how the Asian sputtered and blushed. Italy laughed at Japan's reaction, rubbing his head. Germany laughed at all of them. He had missed things like these, when all of them where together. He felt Italy's arm snake around his own as he reached up and planted a quick kiss on his cheek, making him blush.

"I-Italy! Don't do that!" He said, then glanced at Prussia. If he had glanced sooner, he would have saw a slight falter in the smile that had plastered itself on Prussia's face.

"So, West and Italia-chan, huh? That makes sense." He said, patting Italy's hair once again. Italy giggled and hugged him.

( )( )( )( )

Germany walked down the hall to his bedroom, sighing heavily. It had been a long day, not only before, but after Prussia had gotten home. Italy left, saying he was spending the night with Romano, and Japan said his goodbye's and went home as well. He ruffled his hair, his unruly bangs falling into his face. He needed to get those cut, they were getting long. He opened the door, stepped into the room, then closed it behind him. He slipped into bed, to find Prussia already sleeping there. He could have sworn he sent the Prussian to bed, in a different bedroom. He would have moved him, or woken Prussia up, but he was too sleepy, and Prussia was quite adorable when he slept. He turned toward his brother, pulling the man next to him, and let sleep take over his body.

( )( )( )( )

_Prussia clawed at the wall, screaming his brother's name. Why didn't anyone hear him? He was yelling as loud as he could! He banged on it once again, resting his head against it. He couldn't get to him. He couldn't save his little brother. He un-awesomely failed, again. Why couldn't he do anything right? He felt a cold hand tap on his shoulder. He turned around, to see a smiling Russian behind him. He growled and punched the man square in the jaw, causing Russia's head to snap back. Russia turned back around, obviously pissed, and pulled…a collar? The man snapped it on his throat, smiling sadistically at him._

"_W-what the hell is this?" He said, pulling at the object. Russia giggled._

"_It is a collar for my pet. We will be going home now. Follow me." He said, yanking on the leather rope that was hooked to the collar. Prussia stayed put, that is, until he was down on the ground, getting dragged by the Russian. He quickly got up, trying to keep pace. He couldn't believe it. He had gotten tricked. He guessed now he should have read his contract better…_

His eyes sprung open, instantly searching the room. They fell on his brother, who had his arms wrapped protectively around him. He smiled and snuggled next to the younger man's chest. Even if he wouldn't love Gilbert, the Prussian would still love him. He was very surprised, earlier in the day, when Germany had rejected him.

Then again, it made sense, after what Italy had done. He was obviously in a relationship with the brunette. Not that it bothered Prussia one bit. It did, however, piss him off that Germany didn't just tell him, so he would have known. Brothers were supposed to tell each other everything, right? At least, that was how it was. Now, he wasn't so sure. It seemed like his younger brother had plenty of secrets.

Maybe one of those was the answer to why he didn't come and save the Prussian, while he was prisoner at Russia's house. Prussia had waited that whole time, glancing out the window every chance he got, hoping that his brother was coming to get him. Of course, he never did, but that was the thought that kept Prussia going. He knew, deep inside, that Germany was never going to come, but at the time, he needed something, some idea, to latch onto, to keep him from doing something stupid, or going insane.

Then again, Russia encouraged stupid ideas', purposely leaving doors unlocked and open, talking louder when he was discussing ways the prisoners were getting to West Berlin. How they were fleeing the East, the place that was formally known as Prussia. The place that no one wanted to be, now, because he had made a stupid mistake.

So he tried, every chance he could, to get out of there, going through those doors, trying to tunnel under the wall, or slip under the gate when the SS troops weren't watching. Not that it did any good, because Russia was usually on the other side, or waiting for him at the gate. Every time, Russia would bring him back to that dreaded house and punish him. The thought of the punishments he got made him shiver. Only he and Russia knew the full extent of punishments he got, and only he knew the pain, both emotional and physical, he received. He finally got used to it, putting a sort of emotional mask on every time it happened. Yes, it still hurt, but it made it less fun for Russia, to not be able to hear his cries, or see his face contort in pain.

When he had heard that the Berlin Wall was being torn down, he did his best to sneak out of the house, running as fast as he could away from it. It had been freezing cold, but he still ran, he ran until he couldn't feel his legs or feet anymore. Till he couldn't even feel the cold wind, because he was hot.

He was surprised Russia didn't come after him, not that he wanted the bastard to. He finally found the wall, stepping happily through a large hole already torn through it. He searched for his brother, and when he saw him, he could have sworn all the pain melted away. He ran towards the man, tackling him. He noticed how his brother was larger now, more muscled that how he was when Prussia had left him. He knew his own body was smaller and less muscular. It wasn't his fault, Russia just didn't feed him enough, for how much work he was forced to do. But that didn't matter, because he was in his brother's arms again.

He sighed and got up, kicking the ground. Not that anything would happen, that was just a habit of his. He walked out of the room, going into the kitchen to find something to eat. He was happy to be back home. At least he had Italy to cook him pasta whenever he wanted it.

"Prussia! How are you doing, at your new house?" He heard behind him. He stopped, his body rigid, because he knew that voice. That voice that was like ice. He turned around slowly, his eyes being greeted by the sight of Russia sitting at his brother's table, smiling at him. He felt himself start to shake, but tried not to show it.

"G-Get out! This isn't your house! That's breaking and entering. That's against the law...I think.."

"I just entered. I did not break anything. You should be more hospitable; I just wanted to see how you were doing."

"I'm fine, now go."

"But, I thought we could talk about how you broke our agreement."

"I don't care about our agreement! You did a lot of shit that wasn't on that agreement too, you bastard. I'm home, and I'm NOT going back to your house, I'm NOT going to discuss anything with you, and I'm sure as hell NOT going to have anything to do with you!" He growled, glaring at Russia. The Russian giggled. He fucking giggled.

"Prussia, you think you are intimidating, do you not? Little lamb, I will always have something to do with you. You cannot get away from my rule." He said, making Prussia laugh himself.

"HA! I can get away easily! Watch me!" He said, sticking out his tongue and…running into Germany's room. He shook the German awake, whispering "Wake uppp! Westtt!" in his ear. Germany opened his eyes groggily, groaning.

"What is it now, Italy?"

"I'm Prussia, dude! And HE'S here! HE. Is. HEREEEE." He said, staring at the door. Germany processed this for a moment, then pulled his pistol out from under his pillow.

"FUUU—You have a pistol. Under your PILLOW?" Germany ignored this question, getting up and walking down the hall, holding the pistol next to him. He came into the kitchen…to see it empty, except for the open fridge. Prussia walked into the kitchen, gaping.

"West! I swear he was here! I'm not lying! He was sitting right there! He called me a lamb! And then rulers and agreements and giggling. FUCKING GIGGLING WEST!" He said, staring at the seat Russia was just sitting in. Germany sighed at rubbed his temples.

"I know, it's hard for you, and you're probably having bad dreams, bu-"

"WEST! It wasn't a bad dream! He was RIGHT. THERE. I know he was! I didn't imagine it, dammit! Why don't you believe me?" He asked, grabbing Germany's shirt. Germany sighed and pointed towards Prussia's bedroom.

"Go back to bed, now." Prussia felt the tears in his eyes, hot and salty, but he quickly wiped them away, walking back to the white walled room. He slipped into the sheets, cream and silky, pulling them over his head. He had always slept under the sheets. It made him feel safe when he was smaller, and even if he didn't need that reassurance now, it was comforting. He sighed, blowing air out his nose, then let himself sleep.

( )( )( )( )

_He looked around. Black walls, the metallic smell of blood. He heard that insufferable laughter, the laughter of a Russian. He grits his teeth, feeling his heart beat fastly, out of fear for once. The fact that he was scared made him even more scared. He felt familiar arms wrap themselves around his neck, squeezing it tightly. He clawed at these arms, gasping for breath, but not getting it._

"_Red eyes, the color of blood. They look good on you, just like the liquid that runs in your veins, the liquid that you always smell like. It's my favorite color~" The voice said, tracing a crimson stained finger down his cheek. Suddenly, the hands were gone, leaving him clawing at his own neck, blood running down his hands. He stared at his hands, stained in crimson red. He heard the instinctive 'kol'ing, making him shake even harder._

Prussia jolted himself awake, screaming. He glanced around quickly, scanning the room for the Russian. No one, except for him. He sighed, rubbing his eyes, and wiping his face. No blood, at least. He shivered. Why couldn't that bastard just leave him alone? No matter what, he always showed up. He heard Germany walking down the hall, the door creaking open. Germany's blonde head peeked in, jumping a bit when he saw his brother awake, sitting up.

"Oh, um, East…your awake." He said awkwardly. Prussia frowned, nodding.

"Why? It's kinda late…right?"

"Well, your awake too, West."

"Um…right…well, I woke up, and so I came to check on you…" Prussia noticed how Germany's voice got quieter at the end of his sentence.

"W-West…will…you…sleep with me tonight?" Prussia asked, biting his lip and looking down. Germany sighed.

"Prussia.."

"West…I can't sleep alone…every time I go to sleep I'm afraid I'll wake up with him, in his basement, or in my room, or with him, waiting for him to stop so I can sleep, only to wake up to his face again…I'm afraid that he'll be right there, looking down on me and smiling…wake up with a new injury, or covered in blood and I don't even remember what happened for it to get there! Or how he used to just leave me out in the snow, drunk or drugged for hours, to the point that I was almost dead, then he'd have his scary-ass soldiers come and pick me up, and have the Baltics fix me up, only to abuse me more!

"Or how about how I couldn't even sleep half the time, staying up all night, watching for him, because if he came in my room, it never ended well, and then I'd be sleepy all day, and get in trouble for being slow!

"Or how about how he forced me to sleep with him, did you know about that West? How can I find comfort in that? Yeah, he was warm, but it still felt cold. I didn't cry though, nope, no crying, or else I'd be punished. No sadness West, no weakness. No. Weakness. " He said, choking out the last sentence, tears running down his cheeks. He fell back down into his pillow, silent gasps evident as his chest rose and fell, shaking.

Germany felt his heart break, seeing his brother like this, broken and crying. He had always seen his older brother as the strong one, heart of ice, face and body of steel. "To awesome for emotions" Prussia used to reply, when a younger Germany would ask him why he never smiled, or cried. Germany slipped into bed next to Prussia, pulling the albino into his chest and wrapping his arms around Prussia's thin frame. He heard Prussia's sobs get quieter, breathing shallower, gasping coming to a slow halt. He finally stopped, except for shaking. Germany cupped the ex-nation's face in his hands, wiping away a tear with his thumb.

"He can't get you here, Prussia. I promise, you've got me." He whispered, pulling Prussia back into his chest. Prussia bunched the fabric of Germany's shirt in his hands, his sobs turning to wails, then to gasps. He felt Prussia suddenly stop shaking, and quickly took note of how perfectly the albino's head fit in his collar bone, under his chin. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, being able to smell that slight hint of blood and beer that always followed Prussia. No matter what, the smell never left him. That was the smell that comforted Germany for years, as a child, and even now.

He wondered, now, if his brother ever noticed his obvious feeling earlier on. Of course, he looked up to Prussia. Gilbert was the only one he had; from the time he was a child. He was probably about fourteen when he decided that those feeling were different from what he should feel for family. So of course, he asked the only person he could, his big brother. Prussia obliged to help him get such feelings out of his system, being the self-proclaimed "Beste große Bruder der Welt". But it didn't help, at all.

Yet Germany acted like it did, choosing instead to avoid his brother. He knew it hurt Prussia's feelings, but it was better. Then the wall went up, and he slowly grew away from these feelings. But now that he saw Prussia again, he couldn't help but blush, or feel the need to hug or kiss or hold him. He realized it was wrong, but he didn't care as he pressed his lips lightly against Prussia's pink ones, closing his eyes. He pulled away quickly, trying not to prolong it. He felt Prussia's hand trace along his back, turning ruby eyes up towards his own closed sapphire ones.

"West." Prussia whispered, blushing slightly. Germany bit his lip, opening his eyes.

"J-Ja?" He stammered, not looking directly at Prussia.

"If you wanted a kiss, you should have just asked. I wouldn't have said no." Prussia said, once again kissing his younger brother, and, this time, not getting rejected. Prussia hooked his hand behind Germany's head, slowly deepening the kiss. Germany suddenly pulled away, shaking his head.

"Nein. We can't do this. Just…we should just…not drag this out!" He said, and quickly flipped over. Prussia made a noise, and wrapped his arms around the German, kissing down his neck. Germany felt a shudder run down his spine, and he once again cursed his self-control, because he felt it slowly failing him. His shirt somehow found itself on the floor, along with Prussia's. He found himself facing his brother, whose eyes were clouded almost pink with lust. Germany didn't blame him; it had been forever since he had gotten laid.

He gave Prussia a rough kiss, grinding against his older brother. A gasp escaped from Prussia's lips, which were occupied once again by Germany's. Not that he minded.

Prussia kissed his brother again, tracing his hand down Germany's front, into the blonde's pants. Germany shivered again, a familiar feeling of euphorbia filling his brain. He missed that feeling, and urged it on by leaning into Prussia's touch. A moan crossed his lips as Prussia grabbed his erection, handling it expertly.

Prussia used the other hand to push Germany's pants off, once again capturing German lips in a kiss, traveling down Ludwig's neck and chest. If the blonde's mind was more coherent, he would have been worried that Italy would see the various love marks along the length of his body. But his mind was very incoherent as he arched his back, allowing Prussia more space. Fingers clawed into Prussia's back as he pumped Ludwig faster, making the albino groan as well.

As Germany got closer to his climax, for some reason his mind snapped into realization of what they were doing, and he pulled away, gasping. Prussia raised a white eyebrow.

"What is it this time?" He whined, shaking from closeness to his own climax.

"W-we can't do this."

"Too late, we already started. We can't stop now, West. Your killing me!" He said, creeping his hand up Germany's body, towards his hair, which was sticking to his forehead with sweat. Gilbert intertwined his hands in Germany's hair, kissing him once again. Germany closed his eyes and leaned into Prussia's kiss, then pulled away and shook his head.

"Nein!" He growled, glaring at Prussia. Prussia sighed and rolled his eyes, turning over. Germany kept his jaw set as he turned away as well. He heard part of his brain telling him to turn back around, to go along with it. But the more prominent part of his brain said that it was wrong, and that he should just leave it alone. Tonight, the prominent part finally won over.

( )( )( )( )

Germany stared at Prussia across the table, eyes barley above his book. Prussia sat there, messing with his phone, smiling and laughing happily. He felt his face get hot and he looked back down. The German jumped as his phone vibrated, and Prussia giggled. Germany growled a little, and then picked up his phone, reading the message.

_Dear Deutschland,_

_I know you don't like me back…pshhhh, no matter, I still love you. You're a real bastard, you know that? Stopping me in the middle of sex? Diabolical, really. But it's not like I'd stop you if you wanted to, you know, get up and make me Pfannkuchen. Just an idea…_

_-Love, Me._

Germany felt the blush spread even further across his face as he got up, going to the fridge to pull out the pancake mix. A muffled 'Kesesese' came from behind him, and he felt himself laugh a bit as well. Who knew, maybe that small part of his brain would win over later that day~

( )( )( )( )

Well, that took me forever…dammit...all of mah one-shots are turning into lemon…I can't help it…Mlerf…


End file.
